


When Mindy Met Richie

by kruly



Category: The Mindy Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kruly/pseuds/kruly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mindy and Richie have an interesting chat during the party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Mindy Met Richie

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by last night's episode. loved the character of Richie, and decided to explore how i thought he & mindy might play off each other. set directly towards the end of the party shown in "wedding crushers."
> 
> sorry for the title. :)

Mindy holds her second— _okay_ , third—slice of pizza to her mouth and takes a bite, bopping her head to the music serenading the remaining party guests. She turns away from Morgan and the rest of their friends doing the Limbo and sees Richie standing by the kitchen island, watching with an amused expression. She grins and does a little shimmy as she makes her way over to him.

  
He quirks an eyebrow at her, amused. “What was that?”

  
She waves her free hand and shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. That was dumb. I saw it in a movie.” She takes another bite before asking, “What happened to Danny? Did he hurt his back attempting to limbo?”

  
Richie smiles and presses his beer to his lips, taking a drink. Mindy is briefly taken back by the image and  just how much he resembles his brother and _damnit_ , _is he really gay_?!

  
“He went to say good-bye to some people. Should be back soon.”

  
She drops her slice on the countertop and grabs his biceps ( _D_ _amn, is that cashmere?_ ), pulling him closer. “Oh my god, this is perfect! Quick, tell me every embarrassing story from Danny’s childhood!” Her grip tightens as her imagination wanders. “Was he a bedwetter? Did he wear, like, black leather jackets and put grease in his hair?”

 

Her voice drops. “Was he in a gang? You don’t have to name names, just blink once for no, or twice for yes. Actually, you know what? Forget it, just tell me.”

  
He laughs and gently eases himself out of her grip. “Yeah, sure, I’ve got stories. Let’s see. Should I start with the time he fought some kid—and lost—over a corndog at Coney Island? He was eighteen, by the way. Or, what about the time I caught him crying in a bathroom at Sal's Pizza, ‘cus some  girl he was in love with said she hated Bruce Springsteen.”

  
Mindy’s grins widely and looks at him with excitement. “ I am so excited I just peed myself a tiny bit.”

  
“Nonna used to call him her _‘Little Pomodoro’_ , ‘cus he was so round and red like the tomatoes in her garden.”

  
She claps her hands and practically bursts with delight. “Yes! He _was_  fat as a kid. I love it!”

  
He chuckles again and points toward her with his beer. “You’re Mindy, right?” She grins, nodding up at him. “Danny’s told me about you, over the phone. Though, he never told me how pretty you are."

 

“Thanks,” she replies, pleased. “Danny also never mentioned how hot _you_ are. Or, how unavailable.”

 

This earns her another laugh. Richie places his empty bottle on the counter and walks toward Danny's wine cabinet. "Merlot?" he shoots over his shoulder. 

 

"Yes, please." Mindy says, and she waits patiently for him to pour them each a glass. He returns, handing her a drink while taking a sip of his own. 

  
“So, you and Danny are friends?" Richie asks suddenly. Surprised, Mindy looks at him and slightly furrows her brow.

  
“Danny and I? Yeah, I guess. I mean, he's much older than me, way grouchier, but I think we get along okay.” She runs a manicured finger along the rim of her glass and adds, in a rush, “He’s kind of one of my best friends, actually.”

 

Richie nods, although at this point in her life, Mindy's been ignored enough times to recognize he's barely listening. She shifts uncomfortably under his intense, thoughtful gaze and takes another sip of her wine. After a few more seconds of him not speaking, just staring, she prepares to ask why he posed the question in the first place, when the front door swings open and the subject in question re-enters the apartment.

  
“Hey, come on, Mindy!” Danny exclaims, zero-ing in on her as soon as he's inside. He strides over and picks up the half-eaten pizza laying bare on the island counter. “What are you, an animal? Use a plate!”

  
“Sorry!” She shoots back, lifting a hand in an apologetic gesture. Then, like it's a second thought, she adds, “ _Pomodoro_.”

  
Danny’s immediate reaction is confusion, then anger. He turns to Richie and swats him, tossing an accusatory “You told her? I can’t believe you, Richie, how could you?!” as he does so.

  
“I’m sorry!” Richie laughs, looking anything but. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

  
Danny points at Mindy and warns, “This will not become a thing, alright?”

  
“I am sorry, Danny, but I cannot promise that.” She demonstrates exactly why when she stops Morgan as he passes and instructs, “We call Danny _‘Pomo’_ now."

  
Morgan glances between his two bosses. “Great. Awesome. May I ask why?”

  
She pushes him away to let him know he's outlived his usefulness. “No, leave. Just tell everyone from the office.”

  
“Fantastic! Not a problem,” he adds, disappearing to do exactly what he’s been told. Danny springs into action, shouting, “No! Morgan!” before rushing after the obedient nurse.

 

Mindy turns back to Richie, who’s looking at her with an appreciative smile. He touches a hand to her shoulder and states, “I like you."

  
“I like you too. And oh!” She rummages through her purse, retrieves a small scrap of paper and hands it to him. “That is my hot hairstylist’s number. He may have changed it after the fifth time I asked him out, but I’m about seventy-five percent sure that was just an empty threat.”

  
Richie places the paper into his back pocket with a bemused expression and thanks her. Then, apropos of nothing: “Danny has a hard time telling people how he feels.”

  
Mindy gives him questioning look and dubiously replies, “Really? He seems pretty outspoken to me. I actually find it difficult to make him _stop_ giving me his unsolicited opinion on things.”

  
The corner of his mouth turns upward, but he shakes his head and appears to ruminate over what he's about to say next. He verbalizes his words carefully,  slowly and stilted as he uses his hand in an effort to somehow guide her into his meaning. “Not when it’s important. He sometimes…The whole thing with Dad…then Christina...It takes a lot for him to let people in, y’know? It’s like he’s afraid, so he says things by not actually saying them.”

 

Mindy bites her lip as she tries to understand what he’s telling her. “No offense, Richie, but what are you talking about?”

  
“Just…” he drifts off before snapping his fingers. “Just try to hear what he’s really saying.”

  
Mindy nods like she’s taking this all in, then asks, “How much have you had to drink?”

  
Richie peeps down at his wine and then back at her with an adorably abashed grin. “A lot,” He admits and sets the glass onto the counter. He extends his arms and stretches, informing her, “I think I’m gonna call it a night. But, think about what I said.”

  
Mindy nods to signal she will and watches as he turns to everyone still in the apartment and says, “Thank you all for coming!” He barely—just barely!—tilts his head in the direction of the attractive brunette Mindy vaguely recognizes as a nurse from the hospital, who's silently been waiting in a corner the entire time. Mark SomethingorOther. She watches, slack-jawed, as the youngest Castellano brother strolls toward the bedroom without a second glance, and the nurse jumps from his seat, practically running after him. _Damn it_ , she thinks. He’s got game.

  
Danny appears behind her and proudly proclaims, “That’s my Richie!”

  
He’s standing fairly close to her, and while she would have probably never noticed it before, she certainly does now, hyper-aware of the fact she can almost feel his body heat against her own. She takes a step away from him and announces, “It’s getting late. I should probably go.”

  
For a split second, she believes she sees something like disappointment cross his features, but she brushes it off as a figment of her imagination. Whatever it was, it’s quickly covered by an ambivalent bop of his head. “Sure, let me walk you out.”

 

He goes to grab his coat before opening the front door, standing aside so that she can leave before him. She begins to, then stops in the doorway, Richie's words bouncing around her mind as she tries to make sense of them. He was kind of drunk when he said them, sure, but she can't get the look on his face out of her head. The way he stared at her like he knew something she didn't. But what was it he knew? What was it he, and possibly even Danny, not telling her?

 

She locks eyes with him and feels a turn in her stomach that gives her pause. _Weird_. That's an odd reaction to have while looking at a friend. _Especially when that friend is Danny_ , she muses, conveniently ignoring the fact that it's not the first time she's experienced that sort of response. Danny gives her a strange look and somewhat impatiently asks, "What? What is it?" and she finally breaks her gaze.

 

_Could Richie have been trying to...?_

 

“Hey, Danny?” She starts, finally. Her fingers begin playing with a stray tendril of hair, but it’s _definitely_ not because she’s nervous, because what does she have to be nervous about? It’s just Danny!  _Unless..._. “I just want you to know, um…If there's ever anything you want to tell me...I'll listen.”

 

  
He stares and she's forced to look away from the sheer awkwardness of it all, causing her to miss it when his expression softens. Mindy feels her heartbeat pick up a bit, just slightly, as he stretches his fingers to lightly brush her arm as he says, lowly, "Mindy?"

 

She looks up and meets his eyes, holding her breath. _Was he going to...?_

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

His face is the picture of pure confusion and she mentally smacks herself, feeling stupid for whatever stupid ideas she's briefly entertained. God, for a second she _actually_ thought Richie was trying to say...Ugh, _kill me,_ she internally begs the universe. _Please_ , _just send like a lightning bolt or something to take me out!_ Unfortunately, nothing happens, and she's forced to deal with this very uncomfortable situation.

 “Nothing,” she says quickly, turning swiftly and making a beeline for the elevator. "It's nothing. Never mind. Let's go."

 

"No, wait," he says, his voice full of curiosity. "Seriously, what are you talking about?"

 

"Forget it, Danny!" she yells, perhaps a little too loudly, jabbing at the elevator button like it will make it come faster. "Just shut up and walk me to the train."

 

She nearly runs onto the elevator car when it arrives, her head ducked down and out-of-view. Danny stares at her for a moment longer, before he shrugs and follows her lead.


End file.
